


Kiss a girl tonight

by duesternis



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: 20s-30s Au, Dancing, F/F, Fluff, Singer AU, alcohol drinking, falling in love over songs and fistfights, they're rly gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 13:37:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10720380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duesternis/pseuds/duesternis
Summary: A night out changes everything for Angela.





	Kiss a girl tonight

The first thing Angela thought was: „She’s tall!“  
Then: „She’s gorgeous.“  
After another moment spent staring at the stage she realized that the Lady in the sinuous blue dress was singing.   
And that she had a voice like honey and silk.  
Her hands moved cat-like, golden gloves up to her shoulders and gold sandals shining in the light.

Angela was jostled by a giggling woman, hanging off a man’s arm and bumped into a young man.  
„Ah, excuse me.“ She blushed and tucked a loose strand behind her ear.  
The young man smiled. „No offense taken. May I take your coat, though?“  
Angela nodded, cheeks still red, and handed her tan coat over. The rose dress she was wearing seemed suddenly too much for the establishment and she wished she would never have come.

But there her co-worker was and Angela smiled at her and her man for the night.  
„Angie, come over here!“ Brigitte would probably never learn to keep the shouting to outdoors.  
Unsure on her heels, Angela slipped into a seat next to Brigitte and pried her eyes away from the slick black hair of the singer. It curled around her chin.  
„I ordered you a drink.“ Brigitte leaned her hand against Angela’s shoulder and smirked. „Leo is paying.“  
„Your stage whisper is really bad, Brigitte.“ Angela took the drink with a grateful smile to Brigitte’s hopeful companion and took a sip of it. Pale yellow, fruity.  
Nothing like the liquid sin rolling from the stage.  
Angela let herself be drawn in by the music and payed only half a mind to her friend talking away at her newest acquirement. Something about vacations.

The woman on the stage had striking eyes. Black, if Angela saw them right in the light and through the haze of cigarette smoke.  
She hummed along to one of the songs she knew from somewhere and sighed when the woman bowed.  
The people clapped off-handedly and the warm voice fell away.  
Only the low notes from the band filled the lulls in conversation.

Through the din of voices Angela heard the singer laugh at something one of the band-members had said and she flushed again.  
Tugged on Brigitte’s sleeve. „That singer, what is her name?“  
Leo leaned over Brigitte and grinned at Angela, obviously interested in the topic. „Her stage name is Pharah. She’s from Egypt, I heard. A real beauty!“  
Brigitte slapped his wrist and laughed. „She’s got quite the voice, right?“  
Angela nodded. Pharah.  
It fit her like a glove.

 

She was glad for her coat and wished for a scarf to wrap around her hair. The wind was cold in the streets, licking around corners and making Angela curse her thin stockings.  
Pretty they might be, but they did nothing against the cold.  
And if her gut feeling was right, then the three men across the street were looking at her.  
„Silly girl, should have taken Brigitte up on her offer to stay the night at hers.“ She shuddered and pulled her coat closer around her throat.  
The men laughed loudly and steps rung out in the street.  
Angela hurried her pace.

„Young lady! You dropped something!“ A rough voice. Slurred words. Intoxicated.  
Angela kept walking, heart beating in her throat and Jack’s voice in her ear. „Promise me you’ll never walk home alone after dark. This city won’t hesitate.“  
„As if a farm boy is one to talk!“ She licked her lips and slipped around a corner.  
Collided with a warm body and squawked.  
A hand on her elbow held her upright.  
„Woah, slow down there!“ A pearl of laughter, thick and rich and soft.

Angela looked up and blinked.

A handsome face under a checkered cap smiled down at her. Brown skin and a sharp nose and dark eyes.  
„Excuse me.“ Angela frushed over her coat and checked the street behind her. The laughter of the three drunks followed her like her own shadow.  
„I’m in a hurry.“  
The hand on her elbow reluctantly let go. „Are you in trouble?“ The voice was almost too soft for a man, but the clothes and height made Angela sure enough.  
„I am fine. I just want to get home. It’s cold.“  
„I could walk you home.“ The smile flashed at her made Angela flush.

„Young Lady?“ Three shadows just behind her and Angela turned around with a gasp.  
The young man in the checkered suit stepped between her and the men with the fluid elegance of a dancer and the stance of a boxer.  
„The lady is with me and you three need to back off.“ Nothing of the soft charm was left.

Angela stumbled backwards and clutched her coat around herself. „Please, let’s just all go home! There's no need to fight.“  
Nobody heard her.  
One of the men threw his hat to the ground, one dropped his jacket, the third one pulled a knife.  
Angela threw a nervous glance at the young man in front of her.  
He just brought up his fists and Angela watched the cloth of his jacket stretch over his back.  
„I don’t want to hurt you. You can still just step away and call it a night.“ Steel in that voice and Angela felt her heart beat.

One of the men lunged forward with a yell and swiped the checkered cap off.  
Angela clasped her hands over her mouth.

Chin-length black hair. Silky and thick.  
A snort that bordered on musical and the first man fell with one hit.  
The one with the knife turned tail and ran.  
The third one lifted his fists warily.  
Angela’s saviour - could it be? even with the suit? - made a few dance-like steps forward.

„I’ll let you have the first hit, for your bravery, my friend. Make it count.“

Angela screamed at the sound of flesh hitting flesh and rushed forward. A hand thrown out at her stopped her in her tracks.  
Two, three quick hits and the third men dropped in a heap.  
A wirl of checkered fabric and Angela was hit with a startling grin. Blood on the white collar.  
A split eyebrow.  
„Oh god!“ She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and rushed forward. Up on her tiptoes she pressed the white cloth to the bleeding wound. „You shouldn’t have done that! There was three of them!“  
„Sorry.“ A soft smile and Angela blushed. „I’m Fareeha, by the way.“  
„Angela.“  
„May I walk you home, Angela?“  
„Only if you let me treat that cut in return.“  
„What, are you a nurse?“  
„Yes, I am.“  
A low whistle and Angela let Fareeha hold the handkerchief to her eyebrow on her own.

„I mistook you for a man.“  
Fareeha laughed brightly and offered her arm to Angela. „A lot of people do, when I wear pants.“  
„I never saw a woman in pants before.“ Angela carefully looped her arm through Fareeha’s and they fell into step together.  
„It’s comfortable. And most dresses are too short for me. I’m pretty tall.“  
Angela smiled and leaned her shoulder against Fareeha’s. „I like it.“

 

Fareeha hissed and tried to jerk away, Angela’s firm grip on her chin keeping her right where she was.  
„Ouch!“  
„Stop moving so much! I’m almost done.“ Angela dabbed at the cut one last time and carefully put gauze over it. A strip of plaster to keep it in place.  
„See? All done.“  
„Ouch.“  
Angela laughed and washed her hands. „Oh, stop pouting! It doesn’t suit you.“

Fareeha stood and moved up behind Angela by the sink. „Oh? Then what does suit me?“ Her hand carefully cupped Angela’s waist and Angela blushed.  
Dried her hands.  
„Blue. Blue suits you.“  
Somewhere, in one of the clubs down the street, a band was playing.

Fareeha swayed to the beat and hummed into Angela’s hair.  
Angela turned around and put her hands up on Fareeha’s shoulders.  
„Thanks. It suits you too.“  
A thumb swiped at Angelas cheek, right under her eye and she laughed breathlessly. Her heart was beating so hard that Fareeha had to hear it.  
For a moment they just danced slowly to the dim music and Angela felt so light she was afraid she might float away, if it weren’t for Fareeha’s hands on her hips.  
„Angela?“  
„Yes, dear?“ Angela closed her eyes and leaned against Fareeha, content to just stay like this forever.  
She felt so safe in these arms, reminded of dancing in the kitchen with her father as a girl.

„Can I kiss you?“ So timid that she barely caught it.  
She looked up at Fareeha and found her staring at the cupboard, cheeks flushed.  
Angela laughed and stopped their soft swaying.  
"No."  
A heart-broken noise and Fareeha tried to move away.

Angela's hands met behind Fareeha’s head and she pulled herself up on her tiptoes.  
„I think I’m going to kiss you instead.“  
Fareeha sputtered, hands fumbling on Angela’s hips and their lips met.  
A soft kiss. A second and third.  
Hands in hair and a discarded tie.

Cotton sheets and breakfast in the rising sun.  
A chaste kiss on the doorstep and both heading off to work.

A second meeting over dinner, Fareeha in a black suit and Angela in her white cocktail dress.  
They kiss on the doorstep and over breakfast.

They kiss in the mornings and evenings.  
On the cheek in the open, arms joined and Fareeha laughing at Angela’s jokes, even taller with her heels and the smart skirt and jacket. Angela in her uniform looks small next to her and Fareeha lifts her up the stairs in front of their favourite restaurant.

They kiss behind the stage in the night and Fareeha tells the manager that Angela will sit front and center.  
„Why?“, he asks, moustache well oiled.  
„She’s my special friend.“ Fareeha smiles and Angela laughs and the manager complies.

Brigitte keeps prying and Angela and Fareeha always tell a different story of how they met and how they became fast friends.

She makes them up when she lies in bed, Angela already sleeping in her arms.  
She makes them up when she kisses the girl she loves to the moon and back.  
She makes them up when Angela is cooking for them and humming along with Fareeha’s singing.

She will keep making them up, only to see Angela roll her eyes and laugh, warm hand on her arm and lips promising kisses, come evening and privacy.

**Author's Note:**

> heya, this is my first time writing these two and it's self-indulgent.
> 
> Angela refers to Fareeha as "He" in that scene in the alley because she genuinely thinks it's a man until the reveal. Pls don't take offense.


End file.
